


Two Players Only

by helem



Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:19:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helem/pseuds/helem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot, just for fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Players Only

He senses her as she walked in, the way the crowded room seems to recoil at the rapture of her presence, and he turns to catch her eye and wink nonchalantly, despite the tingles he feels through his body as he absorbs her. She’s wearing a knee-length dress, white, but made of some material that seems to sparkle, no, glow. She exudes light as a smile lights up her face and he imagines the beams penetrating him, even from across the gulf of bodies that separates them. She is quickly distracted though, by the offer of champagne, by dropping of the neatly wrapped package she has brought with her, by the compliments and swoons that greet her as she begins to mingle with the throng, so he returns to his conversation with Chris, while the peels of her laughter are the only thing he’s capable of hearing, despite the hubbub and the tinkle of glasses. 

It feels like he waits an eternity, nodding his head when it feels appropriate, chuckling on cue, but eventually she comes. He knew she would, knew she had to. She floats to Chris first, swapping air kisses.  
“Happy birthday,” she sing-songs. “I didn’t realise what a shindig it would be.” She sweeps her hand across the hall, filled with people, both familiar and strangers.  
Chris blushes. “Well, you know Dori. She’ll manage to make an occasion out of a bump in the road.”  
She finally turns her attention to David. “Hey,” she says in the breathy tone that makes him instantly hard every time.  
“Hey yourself,” he replies, tangling is fingers with her own. Her eyes are swallowing him whole and he doesn’t dare breathe, let alone look away.  
Chris coughs. “I guess I’ve managed to hide out for long enough. I should start mingling. God forbid she makes me recite a speech.”  
They both laugh and he wanders off.  
David pulls her so she’s facing him, a hand resting lightly on her hip. “How are you?” He keeps his voice light. They’ve had so many years of dark and twisted; too many.  
“I’m good. A little tired but it’s nice to be getting out. How’s life as a rock star?”  
He shrugs. “Not as fun as I thought it would be. It seems the age of the groupies increases in direct proportion to that of the star. It’s not what I signed up for.”  
She hums in agreement. He’s just about to ask her how long she’ll be around for but it turns out Dori has in fact coerced Chris into giving a bullshit speech about how everyone in the room is there for a reason and that he may be growing old but refuses to grow up. He lets her stand in front of him to give her a better chance to see over the many heads, but mostly so that he can loop an arm around her waist and breathe in the intoxicating smell of her hair. When everyone raises their glasses to toast, she places her hand over his. He has to take a small step back to hide what she’s still able to do to him after all this time.

They stay joined at the hip, speaking to old crew members, being introduced to new ones. She has lapses in memory and falls over her words. It used to irritate him but now when she does it she laughs at herself, turns red, and buries her head into his chest to collect herself. He hopes that the more champagne she allows herself to indulge in will lead to more bouts of laughter. 

They find themselves outside on the deck, looking out at the private beach, a few torches lighting the garden around them. She says something about age being more than just a number these days but he ignores it and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He says that he likes her as a blonde. He says that she always looks beautiful. She licks her lips and then leans forward and places a kiss on his cheek. He thinks that’s the end of the moment, that she’ll pull away and make some excuse about having to leave, like the game they usually play, but instead she keeps her head close to his and whispers, so softly he almost misses it, “The way you look at me always makes me feel beautiful.” This isn’t how the game is usually played but he likes how she’s bending the rules, so he takes her hand and makes her follow him.

He drags her to a little den opposite the bathroom and closes the door, not bothering with the light. He pins her to the wall with his body making no secret of what he wants from her. She doesn’t push him away, just lifts her chin, meeting his eyes in the little bit of light that’s creeping in from the corridor outside. He places a kiss in the nowhere land between her ear and her jaw and her breath hitches. He places another one behind her ear and then gently tugs her lobe between his teeth. She turns her head, capturing his lips with her own. Her tongue forces its way into his mouth. Their kisses are wet and loud, the space between them filled with heavy breathing. She tastes like champagne but mostly of herself, a taste he’s never forgotten from those few times they’ve broken the rules before. She drags her tongue up his neck, scraping against the stubble, tasting the saltiness of his skin, the bitterness of his cologne. He moans and she grabs his hand, planted against the wall next to her head, and forces it to her breast. He squeezes the fleshiness and she whimpers into his mouth. She slides her own hand down between them, sliding it along the length of him, feeling the hardness she aches for. He bites her lip in response. “Do you see what you do to me?”  
His hand leaves her breast and her brow starts to furrow in contempt but then she feels him at her hips, grasping her, lifting her against the wall so that their height disparity is no longer an issue. She parts her legs slightly and he steps between them, his hardness meeting the apex of her thighs and she groans, the back of her head falling back with a thud. “Shhh,” he warns gently, running his nose along her neck. She grabs his hair, bringing his mouth to her so she can suck and bite and lick instead. He starts to rock into her, sliding his cock against the heat between her legs, desperate for the friction to ease the ache of his arousal. He wants more than anything to be inside of her. “Jesus,” she hisses as he rubs over the nub of her clit again and again. He loves when she gets religious in bed, the rebellious demon inside of her rattling the bars of its cage. He takes the opportunity to scrape his teeth along her clavicle and another gasp escapes. “David,” she says urgently. “David.” He looks up. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair wild and her lips swollen. She kisses him, sipping chastely from his lips then tosses her head in frustration, trying to rub herself against the delicious hardness of his cock. “Baby, I need it,” she moans. “Fuck! I need you inside of me.” She can hear the whine in her voice but she’s past the point of caring.

He breaks speed limits on the ride to his house. It’s only ten minutes away, just the other side of Malibu, but he can hardly wait that long. She’s silent next to him and he worries she may be rethinking her decision. He puts a hand on her knee. “You okay?” She nods tightly, turning her head to look out the window. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting you,” she says softly. He doesn’t ask her if she wants to.

They can’t make it to the bedroom. He places her up on the kitchen counter, pulls her underwear off and buries his head in the gap between her thighs. The smell of her alone makes his mouth water. It takes two fingers inside of her, a few laps of his tongue and a strategic rub of his nose before she’s coming undone beneath him. Thanks god his neighbours don’t live close by. “Fuck,” she gasps as he emerges, wiping his chin on his forearm. “Oh shit.” She chuckles mirthlessly, collapsing onto the cool marble behind her. He leans over her and kisses across the neckline of her dress. She runs her fingers through his hair noticing the grey strands that seem to have appeared overnight.

She’s completely naked on his bed. His shoes and t-shirt have come off but his jeans are starting to become uncomfortable. They’ve been making out solidly for ten minutes and she’s allowed him to run his hands over all the exquisite parts of her perfect little body and enjoy all the responses she’s given in return. He thinks his favourite was the sexy little mewl she made into the cavern of his mouth when he scratched his nail over her nipples. He had forgotten how sensitive her breasts were and how quickly she could go from zero to sixty just by having them touched. He stands up to get rid of the offending garment and as he reaches to undo his belt she starts to run her hand over her own body as she watches him. Her eyelids are heavy and her tongue brushes her top lip and her hands rake up her ribs and her fingers draw lazy circles around her areolas. His pants finally hit the floor and he sighs in relief, allowing his boxers to drop too. She moans in appreciation and he closes his eyes to get himself together.  
“Come here,” she encourages softly and he allows himself to lie on top of her, torso to torso, cradles between her gorgeous legs. They both groan at the hot contact of skin against skin. It’s been way too fucking long. The last time she’d been seven months pregnant, wearing a purple dress. He’d had to fuck her from behind in a small storage closet while she bit his hand to stop herself from screaming as she came around him. They’d also both been with other people but that was an obstacle in the game that they always chose to ignore.  
He kisses her fiercely now, his hand cupping her ears and holding her to him like the precious part of his soul that she is; has always been. She slides her hand from his shoulder, down the muscles of his back to cups his ass. His cock nudges the inside of her thigh and his breath hitches against her lips. She slides her tongue along his teeth and into his mouth, tasting him, indulging herself. She won’t ever take this for granted. He rests above her on his forearms and starts rocking against her, making her breath leave her lungs in a gush. It’s so fucking good with them. “Uh,” she whimpers as the head of his erection nudges her clit and he takes up a deep and heady grind against her. She scrapes her teeth against his jaw in desperation. “Now,” she says. “Oh, god, please. Now.”  
He reaches down briefly and then slides into her in one smooth stroke. She’s so wet there’s almost no friction, but she’s so so sweet and tight around him it’s making him dizzy. He holds still, letting her adjust to his girth as the tip of him bumps against her cervix. Her hands slide back up to his shoulders and he feels her nod next to his cheek so her starts to move within her; short shallow thrusts that allow them to kiss almost continuously while they move together. She bends one knee, foot flat on the mattress for leverage, while the other leg twines round his and he feels her small foot sliding up and down the back of his calf.  
The shallow thrusts are overtaken by their insatiable need for one another. He’s soon pounding into her and she has to wrench her mouth from his as her breaths come hard and fast, accompanied by the rhythmic wet slap of flesh against flesh, skin against skin. “Ooooh,” she groans. Her hands lift away from to grab onto the rungs of the headboard which has started to bang in time against the wall. “Yeah, oh yeah.” Her breathy whispers always drive him insane.  
“Gilly,” he whispers. “Oh, baby, you’re so fucking sweet. I love fucking you, baby.” She whimpers and he’s mesmerised by the rhythmic bounce of her breasts below him, her nipples rosy and taut.  
Suddenly her eyes burst open. “David, fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m so fucking close.”  
He picks up the pace yet again, driving into her violently, wanting to lose himself in her molten depths. “Yes, baby, yes,” he urges. “Come for me. It’s only me, Gilly.” She starts to unravel beneath him, her eyes falling shut and her mouth open. “That’s it, baby. Come on my cock. Jesus, you’re so fucking beautiful when you come.” He feels her clench down on him and then release in a series of fluttering contractions. She’s frozen beneath him and he can’t take his eyes off her and then she’s gasping for breath, her whole body shaking while it recovers. He kisses her soothingly everywhere he can reach; eyes, cheeks, neck, lips, chest.  
She pushes him onto his back and the plunges herself down onto him and starts to ride him fast and hard and all he can do is grab onto her hips and meet her thrust for thrust. Things are getting desperate for him at ground zero when she pierces him with her gaze and says, “I wanna feel you come, baby.” And so he does, spurting into her in long hot jets until he’s completely spent beneath her. 

They’re a sweaty tangle of limbs when he asks her to stay the night. She does and the next morning he makes her scrambled eggs and once again acts like he’s her best friend; a best friend who knows how her brain works and what her face looks like when she comes. They’ll keep playing the game and he’ll act like he’s happy to play the next round, but they’ll both just be waiting for the next opportunity to break the rules.


End file.
